


The Words

by tsuki_llama



Series: The Office [16]
Category: Darker Than Black
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 19:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuki_llama/pseuds/tsuki_llama
Summary: They're only three small words - so why is it so hard to know when to say them?





	The Words

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't get the next Shifu chapter finished this weekend like I'd wanted. I know I didn't promise one, but I feel guilty anyway. So here is a quick little scene that's been sitting in my files for a while, waiting for a home...

“Have you seen my keys?” Misaki called as she rushed past the kitchen, struggling into her coat. “I can’t believe I forgot about this meeting, I’m so late already…”

A clunk from the living room told Hei that she was in the process of emptying her purse.

He tipped some sliced chicken into the pan, where it sizzled and popped. A little fat splattered, but he was wearing an old apron of Misaki’s (even she couldn’t remember where she’d gotten it, or why) over his work clothes.

“Did you check your coat pocket?” he called back over the sizzle of the chicken.

A quiet pause; then a jingling of keys.

“Why do you always put them there?”

“Because you always lose them if I don’t.”

Misaki heaved a sigh, but Hei knew that she was frustrated with herself rather than with him.

They hadn’t been living together for all that long, he mused as he stirred the chicken with his good cooking chopsticks - a handful of months, really - and yet somehow they understood each other without needing to actually say the words. He knew when her frustrations with work were at risk of spilling over into her home life; _she_ knew when tricky feelings from his past were starting bubble up, and he needed time alone to process things.

They didn’t even need to say, well, _those _words. Misaki, for all that she was sweet and affectionate in private, had very little patience with sentimentality; she didn’t need to say it for Hei to know how she felt about him. She showed it every time she smiled, and in her unwavering support of him despite his past.

For his part, he was sure that _she_ knew how _he_ felt, as well. He did his best to always be there for her, whether it was when she was struggling with self-doubt in her work, or something as simple as preparing fresh bentos for them both every morning before work.

Sometimes, though, his own self-doubt would begin to creep in. _Was _she simply not sentimental, or had she been waiting all these months for him to say it first? Was she growing more and more disappointed with each passing day that he didn’t?

And how was he supposed to say it without sounding sappy and maudlin, which she would surely hate?

Not a problem for today, he reminded himself. Or at least, not right now; he had lunches to finish cooking before he followed her into the office later.

“I’ve got to run,” Misaki called from the entry. “See you at the morning debrief.”

Hei heard her unlock the door, the hinges squeaking subtly as she opened it. “Bye,” he told her. “Drive safe.”

“I will. I love you.”

The door slammed shut.

Hei stood frozen, his chopsticks poised over the frying pan. Long, long moments crept by while he tried to process whether he’d actually heard what he thought he’d just heard. Then he dropped the chopsticks with a clatter and raced out of the kitchen.

He yanked open the apartment door. Misaki was standing on the other side, her hand poised as if to reach for the door handle, eyes wide.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Misaki opened her mouth, but Hei beat her to it.

“I love you too,” he said.

The most radiant smile that Hei had ever seen lit up her face. She grabbed the front of his apron and pulled him forward for a quick kiss.

“Bye,” she whispered. Still smiling, she shouldered her purse and hurried down the hall toward the elevator.

Hei could do nothing but stand in the doorway and watch her go, an indescribable warmth flooding his veins. He could have stood there forever, just staring.

Then the unmistakable scent of burning chicken reached his nose; he ran back to the kitchen, cursing himself under his breath.

Well, if he hurried, he could pick up some prepackaged bentos on his way to the office. He knew Misaki wouldn’t mind.


End file.
